by A. J. Low
“I would promote you back up to Minion One for being so loyal, but you were duped so easily, so I think I will leave you as Minion Five,” James said.
“You were duped too,” Mark snapped. The rest vigorously nodded in agreement.
“Maybe we don’t want to be your minions any more,” Rupert said. “Maybe you should be our minion now instead.” The other minions cheered, “Yeah!”
“I don’t think anybody is going to be anybody’s minion for quite some time,” Officer Siva said. They fell silent.
“But no, it wasn’t Mark. It was the person who told Mark that James wanted him to get the painting from me,” I said. “It’s the only one who’s not here right now.”
Mark looked at Rupert. Liam looked at Noel. Rupert looked at Liam. Noel looked at Mark.
They realised it at the same time.
“Bok Joo!” they shouted.
Officer Siva’s phone rang.
“That’ll be Inspector Lestrade with good news and bad news,” I said.
Officer Siva answered his phone and put it on the table in front of James. “You’re on speaker, Inspector. Please go ahead,” Officer Siva said.
“I have good news and bad news,” she said.
Officer Siva smiled at me.
“The good news is that I am wearing an amazing chess piece costume of a Knight, and the bad news is that no one here appreciates it,” she said.
“Inspector Lestrade,” I said. “I’m pretty sure you have another set of good news and bad news.”
“What? I do?” she asked. “Oh, yes, I do! The good news is that we found the Lewis Chessmen in the dorm room, just like you said, and will be able to return them to the British Museum.”
The police who had been listening in suddenly erupted into cheers.
“Yes, yes, it is very exciting,” Inspector Lestrade said. “However, the bad news is that Ms Kim Bok Joo is nowhere to be found. She seems to have vanished into thin air.”
“I figured it out too late,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“No!” Jimmy shouted. “You’re still Singapore’s Greatest Kid Detective!”
“Even-when-pretending-to-be-London’sgreatestinternational-art-thief,” Watson said.
The police station erupted into cheers again.
It made me feel better.
∗ ∗ ∗
As we were getting on the Interpol plane Inspector Lestrade had procured for us again (this time without any “administrative errors”), I wondered how the conversation between James and his parents was going. Their plane had touched down in London an hour or so earlier, and his parents would likely just be arriving at the police station. It was probably not a pleasant conversation, and I did not envy any of them at all.
Inspector Lestrade and Officer Siva had used the Metropolitan Police Service databases to look up Kim Bok Joo in various registries, but couldn’t find a single mention of her outside of her enrolment at Morrison College. She had mentioned her father was back in Seoul, but that could have been a lie too. Maybe she’d never even been to Korea.
Before we left London, we did manage to squeeze in a visit to 221B Baker Street and it was incredible. The museum had a recreation of Sherlock Holmes’ study and it looked exactly how I imagined it would from the books! Watson was very pleased to have his photograph taken in Doctor Watson’s bedroom. Also, Dad and Mom bought me a Victorian-style magnifying glass and deerstalker cap from the gift shop. Inspector Lestrade said that she could help me with my costume if I ever wanted to cosplay Sherlock Holmes in the future!
The Supper Club were all sitting in our seats on the plane and getting ready for the flight when Watson suddenly said, “Something-ishappening.”
“Yes, I concur,” Moran said. “Something is happening.”
“Huh? What is?” I said. I got up to walk over to the two robots when an image of the girl we knew as Bok Joo suddenly projected itself out of Watson.
“You almost had me, Sherlock,” she said. “And I would be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised at how good you are at this. No wonder James holds you in such high regard.”
“Where are you?” I asked.
“I’m in Seoul, of course, and if you want to catch me, you’ll need to come here and play my games,” she said.
“You’re in Seoul? When did you get there?” I asked. I had a sinking feeling in my tummy, and it wasn’t hunger.
“I didn’t quite know what exactly was happening towards the end of your little heist, but I knew something was definitely up. And there was no way I was sticking around like the rest of those imbeciles. But not before I sent Mark on his little errand for Master James,” Bok Joo added, smiling. “Did you really think I would get caught cheating in class, Sherlock? I guessed that James had something on his minions so I needed him to have something on me too.”
I realised I had been utterly fooled and disarmed by Bok Joo’s sob story.
“The theft of the Lewis Chessmen and my threat to unmask James, that was all for you, Sherlock. I wanted him to bring you to London so I could observe you in action. And I must say, you are quite impressive—you and your team. But I’m not like James. I’m not going to underestimate you the way he did. He always tries to match wits with you and that’s clearly the wrong way to challenge you. No, my games are going to be far more ingenious than that. And fun!” Bok Joo added, beaming.
“Why would I go to Seoul when Inspector Lestrade can just alert her Interpol colleagues?” I asked.
“Because you’ll never be able to put them back without my help, and I won’t help if you involve any other police besides the two on this plane,” Bok Joo replied, the glee apparent in her voice. She sounded so different from the girl we had met in London.
“Help put who back where?” I asked.
“Get to Seoul as quickly as you can,” Bok Joo said. “I’ll have someone waiting for you at Incheon Airport. Oh, and since I’m really nice, I’ll give you a small hint.”
I waited.
“My real name isn’t Kim Bok Joo. And if you had been paying attention to everything I’ve said while we were in London, you’ll know what I mean.”
She winked and her image blinked out as Watson’s projector shut down.
“What did she mean?” Nazhar asked.
Moran looked himself up and down, paying close attention to the fingers on his hands.
“I have no idea,” Eliza said, “but I for one am quite done playing other people’s games.”
“I agree with Eliza,” Mom said. “Let Inspector Lestrade and Officer Siva handle this. You guys have holiday homework, you know.”
Watson started looking at his arms and legs as well.
“Do not worry, Kat,” Inspector Lestrade said. “I will contact my superiors and let them know that another child mastermind is loose in Seoul. They’ll definitely want to capture the thief responsible for taking the Lewis Chessmen.”
“And I’ll let London Metro know their thief is in Seoul, so they can follow up on the lead,” Officer Siva said.
“She’s definitely mysterious and not a prata or hamster mastermind,” Jimmy added, nodding.
“She had to have meant something,” Nazhar persisted. “If I’ve learned anything about these masterminds, it’s that they always mean something with their cryptic remarks.”
“Maybe she thinks we can’t put the Chessmen back without her help?” Jimmy asked. “Maybe she thinks we don’t know where the horsies go?”
“Watson, run a self-diagnostic,” I said. “I want to know how she was able to hack your projector.”
“I-think-that-is-going-to-be-a-problem,” Moran said.
“I concur, Master Sherlock,” Watson said. “This is going to be a very big problem.”
I looked at the two robots.
“Bok Joo said, ‘Because you’ll never be able to put them back without my help,’” Mom murmured, her eyes widening as realisation dawned on her. “Oh my. You poor boys.”
Watson and Moran looked at each other then down at th
emselves again.
“This-is-unacceptable,” Moran said. “I-amnotamused.”
“Would anyone like some…I do not have any scones, but I seem to have a very large stash of Khong Guan biscuits,” Watson said, his hands fiddling inside his secret compartment. “And no tea bags but there are packets of Milo.”
“Wow,” Jimmy said.
Wendy, Eliza and Nazhar had their mouths hanging open. Dad was already looking at Watson’s circuitry. He looked up at me and shook his head.
“This—this isn’t something that I can just fix, Sam. I’m an engineer, not a programmer,” my dad said. “I’m going to have to take them apart, and even then, it might not work.”
“Inspector Lestrade,” I said, staring at my two robotic friends.
“Yes, I understand,” she said, blinking. “I need to make a few more…administrative errors.”
“Seatbelts on, Supper Club,” I said. “We’re going to Seoul.”
We wrote this story for the winner of the Sherlock Sam Cosplay Contest that was held on Saturday, 11 June 2016. It took place during the launch of Sherlock Sam and the Comic Book Caper in New York at BooksActually. The winner's name is Sivesh, and he made his own fantastic Watson costume, as you can see. He loves comics and his favourite place to shop is at Northpoint City in Yishun. We used these facts to write this mystery in which he stars. This story is set some time before the Battle of the Brains duology.
© SB Sivaganesh
“What’s the most delicious stall here?” I asked.
“Hmmm, the nasi briyani is pretty good, as is the chicken curry, but I never eat there because my mom makes the best chicken curry,” Sivesh said. “You can’t really go wrong with any of the stalls, though. The food here’s all quite delicious.”
“If-you-make-Sherlock-choose-betweendifferentkinds-of-food-we-will-be-here-allday,” Watson said.
“It’s true,” Wendy said. “He once spent half an hour just staring at the food at a buffet because he couldn't decide what to eat first."
Jimmy giggled. “Sherlock is like my hamster, Benjamin. If we give him two different kinds of vegetables, he’ll just gawk at both until we take one of them away.”
We were standing in the middle of the Kopitiam food court in Northpoint City, and as much as I hated to admit it, my friends were right. It was very hard for me to choose what to eat when given too many excellent options— especially when one of the options wasn’t “everything”.
“I wouldn’t mind the nasi briyani,” Nazhar said.
Eliza agreed, nodding her head.
"Okay, let's get the briyani then,” Sivesh decided.
We walked over to the stall and started to order our food. We had come to the mall to accompany Sivesh, who wanted to get his favourite poster framed at a framing shop. It featured the Justice League fighting Darkseid, and was drawn by Sivesh’s favourite artist, Ivan Reis. I had met Sivesh online, when we played a few matches of Rocket League against each other. He was much better than I was at the game where cars play football, but when Watson started playing and beating us both, we teamed up against him. Unfortunately, we still lost.
After lunch, we went to look for the framing shop.
“Where’s Moran, Jimmy?” Eliza asked. “He didn’t want to come out today?”
“He’s at home learning how to make mee siam from Mama and sinigang from Auntie Gina,” Jimmy said. “He really likes cooking!”
“Maybe he can learn how to make my mom’s chicken curry,” Sivesh said.
“My dad makes an excellent ayam penyet,” Nazhar said.
“Yes, Moran should go to everyone’s house so he can learn to cook all the delicious food in the entire world,” I said.
“Eww, stop drooling,” Wendy said.
“I’m not drooling,” I said, wiping my mouth.
We located the framing shop and went in.
“Hello, Auntie!” Sivesh said. The auntie behind the counter turned away from a mahogany frame she was working on. She had gray hair, and wore red glasses, a white apron, a blue shirt with matching pants, and brown gloves stained with the red from the mahogany frame. She smiled brightly at Sivesh.
“Hello, Ah Boy! What can I do for you?”
“I would like to get this framed, please.” Sivesh handed over the tube containing his prized possession. The auntie carefully removed her gloves and checked her hands for stains before taking it from him. Her young assistant came out from the office just as she unrolled the poster.
“Wow!” the assistant exclaimed. “That’s a nice Ivan Reis poster. And it's autographed! You know, Ivan Reis is the second-best modern Green Lantern artist, after only Ethan Van Sciver.” The assistant was wearing a Green Lantern T-shirt. I deduced he probably considered himself an expert on the subject. His glasses were the same shade of red as the auntie’s.
"Ivan Reis is my favourite artist,” Sivesh said with a grin. “So I’m going to have to disagree with ‘second-best’.”
The assistant laughed. “Fair enough. By the way, my name’s Fique, and I will talk to anyone about comics for hours if they’ll let me.” He grinned widely.
“Fique, stop bothering the boy,” the auntie said, waving her hand at him. “And take the poster and all this to the back. Be careful, ah, the paint is still wet.” She gestured at the mahogany frame she had been working on.
Uncle Fique did as he was instructed.
“It’s okay, Auntie,” I said. “We love talking about comics.”
Suddenly, a man in white lab coat rushed into the framing shop and said, “Sorry, Auntie Audrey, but I need change.”
“Again?” the auntie said, shaking her head. “That’s the second time today, Kelvin. You really need to remember to go to the bank more often.”
“Aiyah, I know, Auntie, but I’m shortstaffed today, and people keep paying me in big notes.” Uncle Kelvin, the man in the white coat, then turned to look at us.
"Oh, hello!" he said, "I work at the optometrist’s next door, so let me know if you ever need new pairs.” He smiled widely. He must have noticed that Nazhar and I wore glasses.
“Do you sell shorts?” Jimmy asked.
“What?” Uncle Kelvin said. “Shorts?”
“Yeah, shorts,” Jimmy said. “Sherlock’s favourite pairs are orange!”
“He means pairs of spectacles, Jimmy,” Eliza said. “He’s an optometrist from the spectacle shop next door.”
"Oh no, I'm just an optician," Uncle Kelvin said. He smiled widely again.
Auntie Audrey took out some notes and a few rolls of coins from her cash register and handed them to Uncle Kelvin. He gave her a $100 note in exchange.
"Oh, that's a nice poster," Uncle Kelvin said. "Ivan Reis right? Wow! And it's autographed too! Must be worth a lot.”
“Wah, everybody is suddenly a comics expert," Auntie Audrey said, "Okay, okay, everyone, back to work and out of my shop. This poster will never get framed if we all just stand here and stare. Waste time only.”
Uncle Kelvin waved goodbye and rushed back to his shop. Auntie Audrey shooed us away. “The poster will be ready in an hour. You all go somewhere else and disturb other people for a bit.”
“You guys hungry?” I asked. My tummy rumbled.
“We literally just ate,” Eliza said.
“How could you be hungry again?” Sivesh asked, wide-eyed.
“How could you not?” I asked. “There’s a lot of really good food at that Kopitiam. The nasi padang stall looked quite good.”
“What did Mom say about eating second lunches?” Wendy asked, crossing her arms and tapping her foot.
“She said I could eat one occasionally?” I asked hopefully.
“Actually-she-said-that-not-even-Hobbitsatea-second-lunch,” Watson said.
Nazhar, Eliza and Sivesh burst out laughing. “That’s brilliant!” Nazhar said, tears in his eyes. “‘Not even Hobbits’!”
They continued laughing for some time.
I was defeated. We decided to walk around the ma
ll for a bit, though I was able to turn the tables on my sister when we passed by the Confucius Mandarin Institute, a Chinese tuition centre.
Eliza and Wendy found a clothing shop they were interested in called Punk Star, so they went in and looked around. They asked Watson to accompany them to give them for his “unbiased” opinions while the rest of us went to the nearby video game shop PlayE.
“I think my favourite part about Rocket League is just how ridiculous it is,” I said. “I mean, cars playing football. That’s just great.”
“It really is,” Sivesh agreed. “And all the YouTube videos of people scoring amazing goals are super fun to watch.”
“I should play with you guys, but I’m really into Horizon: Zero Dawn right now,” Nazhar said. “There’s so much to do in that game.”
“I play LEGO Dimensions with Mama, Auntie Gina and my sisters,” Jimmy said. “My mom always brings us a new set when she comes home from her work trips, and she’ll even play with us for a bit. We just started Sonic the Hedgehog!”
"Oh wow," Nazhar said, "There's Sonic in that game?”
“Yup!” Jimmy said. “But our favourite is still Doctor Who.” Jimmy grinned his Jimmy grin.
We continued to browse the games for a while.
“I think your poster might be ready by now, Sivesh,” Eliza said from behind us. She was looking at the time on her phone. Wendy and Watson were with her.
"Did you find anything nice?" Nazhar asked.
“A few things,” Eliza said with a smile.
“Wendy-found-a-lot-of-ridiculous-things,” Watson said.
“They were not ridiculous!” Wendy said, rolling her eyes.
“They were a bit ridiculous,” Eliza said, grinning.
Wendy sulked, "Okay, fine, but they were still cool.”
We walked back to the framing shop to see if Auntie Audrey and Fique had finished framing Sivesh’s poster.
When we arrived, Auntie Audrey was looking quite worried.
"Oh! You're back!" she exclaimed a little too loudly. “So fast, ah?”
“Hi, Auntie,” Sivesh said. “Is my poster ready?”
“Erm… Not really,” she said. Her eyes darted left and right.
